


In Another World

by booping_the_snoot



Series: In Another Life [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Dystopia, Gen, Korean Characters, Time Travel, Trans Male Character, also implied - Freeform, and boom, and then time got messed up by this Dude, idk might have more chapters, implied at least - Freeform, mentioned - Freeform, not major, short as usual, the part at the beginning was how it was originally, wow a second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-06 15:40:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booping_the_snoot/pseuds/booping_the_snoot
Summary: In another world, there would not be a constant threat of harm, and Amari would not have lost her limbs and would just build build build, all day, all the time, as if she’s running out of time.But this is not that world.And she is running out of time.





	1. Chapter 1

_ “Mama!! Mama!!” A child yelled from the other side of the street. They were pointing at a stuffed animal in the window, a little ball python with shiny black eyes. The child's mother puts her hand on their shoulder, most likely to turn the kiddo away and continue to wherever it is they were going. Amari turns away with a small smile on her face. _

 

_ This is Amari Odete. She’s a mechanic and a book lover and she loves coffee. She would marry coffee if she could. All the coffee, just for her. _

 

_ Her boots click softly against the cement as she continues walking down the street. _

 

_ A new apprentice is arriving today. A young girl going by Cherry, who is apparently amazing at building bots and programming AI’s. Amari doesn’t wanna be late, but she just  _ had _ to get a pumpkin latte- its the first day of Autumn, it should be illegal not to get one. _

 

_ She hums as she passes by a flower shop, aroma sweet and flowers looking soft. _

 

_ What a beautiful day. _

  
  


\----

  
  


“Mama!!  _ Mama!! _ ” a child yelled from the other side of the street. They were reaching out for their mother, who was being pulled away by enforcement. The child tried to go to their mother, large tears running down their blotchy face.

 

“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s okay, everything's gonna be fine, don’t cry-” the mother tries to console their child, Korean accent thick, before the guard pulls out his pistol and shoots her in the head. The child lets out a shriek as their mothers head lolls to the side and her body is dropped to the ground, a sea of crimson rapidly growing to bellow her. The child collapses at her side, clutching her shirt and begging her,  _ please, please, please, _ and Amari tries to turn away, but she can’t.

 

This is Amari Odete. She’s an illegal mechanic and a book lover and all four of her limbs are prosthetics and she loves coffee. She would marry coffee is she could. All the coffee, just for her.

 

She should continue back to her home. It’s dangerous for someone like her to be out, someone doing stuff that could easily get them put down. Someone who others want gone. But she can’t.

 

She can’t let them die. But she can’t get caught.  _ But she can’t let them die. _

 

She can see the enforcer stare down at the child before lifting the gun once more, and she moves before she can even think.

 

Her running blades click on the cement as she dashed across the street and grabs the enforcers gun, pushing it to the side before the child can get shot. They haven’t looked up yet, still clutching the body of their dead mother.

 

The scuffle doesn’t last long. Amari’s arms are strong, and she overpowers the enforcer. She pins him before snapping his neck and dropping his body to the ground.

 

She doesn’t have much time before more arrive.

 

Turning around and scooping the child up into her arms, they barely react. She can hear them mumbling, saying  _ mommy mommy please no please no no no nononono mommy please, _ and she can feel her heartbreak. She wants to console the child, but not now. She needs to run, to get them someplace safe.

 

She won’t stand by again as another child is killed.

 

In another world, she wouldn’t have to. She would continue on with her walk and arrive 5 minutes after her apprentice does. She would profusely apologize as the child- younger than she expected, Cherry is so tiny- blushes and rubs the back of her neck and stammers, saying that it’s all okay. In another world, she’d walk past a cute little flower shop every day, a family owned business, and eventually fill up her workshop with flowers. In another world, the child in her arms would not have had their mother killed, they would have had a happy life and lived to become someone great. In another world, there would not be a constant threat of harm, and Amari would not have lost her limbs and would just build build build, all day, all the time, as if she’s running out of time.

 

But this is not that world.

 

And she  _ is _ running out of time.

 

Amari clutches the child in her arms tighter, carding a hand through their hair as she runs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya YEET

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Amari whispers, wrapping a bandage around their thigh. Shortly after picking up the child and running, more enforcers had taken to chasing them. Amari had done the best she could to cover the child's body as the enforcers fired upon them, and Amari had suffered a bullet to her leg for her efforts. That’s okay though, as long as the child is okay.

 

It’s been an hour since they’ve managed to pull one over on the enforcers chasing them. The child hasn’t spoken a word since they had escaped, black shoulder-length hair covering their eyes and bunching up against the hood of their ratty oversized sweater. That’s okay though. She’s sure the child will talk when they are ready.

 

Throwing away the bloody bullet and bandages and leaving the forceps in the sink, Amari sighs. What would a tiny child like? Dolls? Toy cars? She doesn’t know where she would get those. Maybe she could make the kiddo a robot pet? Something small, like a frog, or… oh! A sugar glider! She’ll make the child the cutest robot sugar glider they’ll ever see! What parts would she need? She might have to go out and get-

  
  
A tiny voice rips her from her thoughts, saying, “Miss?”

 

She pauses in surprise, eyes widening as she sees the child staring up at her with eyes that seem to sparkle like nebulas. She’s frozen for a minute as those eyes continue to peer up at her, before squatting down-  _ ow ow ow bad idea- _ and giving the child a smile.

 

“What’s up, kiddo?”

  
  
“You were mumbling. It was kinda creepy.”

 

She pauses once more, head tilting to the side. As she goes to reply, they speak up once more, voice soft.

  
  
“I mean- not… creepy. I mean, I don’t, don’t, uhm…” they stutter out, and Amari gives them a tiny smile.

 

She’s very much so tempted to reach out and ruffle the kid's hair, but refrains. “It’s okay, kiddo. Say, what’s your na-”

 

“I’m called creepy too-” the child interrupts, tiny hands ringing together as their sweater sleeves pool at their elbows. “I’m called cra- creepy a lot too, other kids say that-that my eyes are weird and other people avoid-void me, and…”

 

Their eyes are watering again. Their face scrunches up in irritation, and their face grows red.

 

“Mam-Mama never did, though. S-she calls me her-her little  별, and-a-and she hugs me and-” Their sentence chokes off as thick tears roll down their cheeks and their breath hiccups. Biting their lip, they furiously scrub at their eyes, trying to silence themself. The child ducks their head and squeezes their eyes shut.

 

Amari can’t help it. She reaches forwards and wraps cold, metal arms around the child, holding them to her chest as she herself starts to tear up. Children have always been a weakness of hers.

 

“It’s okay kiddo, you don’t have to muffle yourself, just… just let it out.” she murmurs softly. She can feel their small hands clutch onto her bomber jacket and hide their face into the fluff of the collar. Amari clicks her tongue and cards a hand through their hair, attempting to sooth them.

 

It doesn’t work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> 별 - Star


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV swap?? in my bullshit? its more likey than you think

The Metal Woman is strange. He likes that, he’s strange like her and it’s nice to know that there is someone like him, even if they aren’t all that similar. She’s tall and what remained him of her limbs before cutting off into metal and robotics hints at her being a very very strong lady. Her skin is dark but has light splotches over it- is she vitiligo? Or are those more scars?- and has round wire glasses perched on her nose. Her hair looks to be an undercut, with both sides shaved but rose gold hair pulled back into a loose bun.

 

재용-  _ you need to introduce yourself as Anthony while we’re here, okay sweetie?- _ watches as she slouches in front of the stove. The Metal Woman must be tired, her eyes are drooping and her head keeps dipping down before snapping back up, eyes blinking rapidly.

 

Ja- Anthony had fallen asleep earlier, the events of the day having him, much to his embarrassment and indignation, fall asleep in the Metal Womans’ arms as he had cried. He just needs to not think about  _ it. _

 

_ don’t think about it don’t think about it no no no  _ **_dontthinkdontthinkdontthinkdont-_ **

 

“Kiddo?”

 

Anthony looks up and sees the Metal Woman in front of him, two bowls of ramen (one with spicy mayo on it, he noticed idly) placed to the side. She’s on her knees in front of him and seems unsure of herself.

 

“Can you mimic my breathing, kiddo?” She asked.  _ What? _ “I need you to copy my breathing. In and out, okay?” She says, making a show of taking in a breath through her nose before exhaling softly and repeating.

 

It took a few minutes, but Anthony had managed to calm down. He peers up at her through his bangs, and tries, hopes that his eyes can show how grateful he is to her. He doesn’t wanna voice anything right now.

 

Without a word, the Metal Woman sits next to him and hands him the second bowl. He takes it without a word.

 

Why is she helping him? She doesn’t know who he is, yet here they are. She might not have saved his mommy-  _ nononono please  _ **_god let this be a dream_ ** \- but she had saved him, had taken a bullet for him, and has now cooked for him. Who is she? She’s creepy too, just like him. But where his eyes shine like nebulas and  _ see _ , she has normal eyes. Normal eyes, but metal arms and metal legs and scars and oil smudges and she tends to mumble her thoughts without meaning to. He speaks up before he’s even aware.

 

“What’s your name…?” Anthony askes softly, voice barely audible. She hears him anyways.

 

“Oh, I never told you!” She places her ramen bowl, nearly empty, to the side, before turning to face him. “My name is Amari Odete, little listener!” The woman- Amari- says with a bright smile. If it weren’t for the bags under her eyes and her drooped eyelids, he’d think she has all the energy in the world.

 

Silence. Ms. Amari stays looking at him, green eyes expectant, before Anthony realizes he has to introduce himself as well. Simple manners, and all that junk.

 

“鳳 재용,” he says first, enjoying messing with foreign people and still more used to his given name. He speaks up once more before she can say anything, stating “Anthony. My name is Anthony Feng.”

  
  
Ms. Amari gives him a tired lopsided smile. “Well, Anthony,” she hesitates for a moment before continuing, smile falling just the slightest bit, “You might be stuck with me for a little while.” She pauses, as though to give him time to process this. Anthony stays staring up at her, face blank, waiting. She clears her throat after a moment. “...Is that okay with you?”

 

And he stays quiet. He says nothing as he takes another bite of the now cold ramen, and struggles to swallow it down past his nausea.

 

He wants his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> 鳳 재용 - Feng Jae Yong


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does this count as a filler

Anthony wakes up to the sun in his eyes, the grimy, yellow tinted glass not doing much to deter it. He shifts underneath the quilt and turns away from the window, immediately trying to fall back asleep. His trying is in vain.

 

He’s been living with Ms. Amari for two weeks now. She had cleared out a platform above the little living area of her- hideout? Home?- for him to sleep. She even gave him some Christmas lights to hang up over his bed. He loves it.

 

She’s a nice lady and makes sure that he’s warm and fed, even when she herself forgets to eat while working. After the first two times it’s happened, he makes sure to leave some soup for her on those days. They mostly eat ramen, but occasionally Ms. Amari will be able to make them some takoyaki, following Anthony’s instructions, and what she calls gomen wat.

 

He doesn’t talk a lot, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

 

It’s been… nice. She shows him how to build stuff, and Anthony doesn’t understand a lot of it, but he tries. He prefers reading though. Ms. Amari doesn’t have many books, but what books she does have he reads over and over again. He hopes to become a writer someday, something he knows will be impossible with someone like  _ him _ in charge.

 

Anthony hates  _ him. He _ killed his mother. It’s  _ his _ fault that she’s gone.

 

He won’t let him get away with it, no matter how long it takes him.

 

“Hey, kiddo?” Ms. Amari interrupts his reading one morning. Anthony hadn’t even heard her climbing up the ladder. He looks up at her, not saying a thing, but giving her his attention. She smiles at him, before handing him a small cardboard box. “I made you something. I’m not sure if its… your favorite… uh, but. Yeah. Enjoy, buddy.” She ruffles his hair before descending the ladder back down.

 

What? Anthony looks down at the box in his hands, doing nothing for a solid minute before he can feel something in the box  _ move. _   
  
_ What? _

 

Just as he’s about to open it, it opens by itself- no, not by itself, by a tiny head. What looks like a tiny robotic rodent peeks its head out, teal optics spinning like that of a camera.

 

His first thought is  _ ‘Oh my god this is adorable.’ _ His second thought is how long this probably took Ms. Amari to make. After that, he’s analyzing the little robot, which has since then crawled out of the box of its own volition and into his hand, attempting to figure out what kind of critter it is.

 

_ Squirrel? No, tails not big enough. Chipmunk? Too small. Not a rat, not a mouse, not a chinchilla. WAITWAITWAIT. _

 

He gasps. Loudly.  _ Is it a sugar glider? _

 

Anthony holds back a tiny squeal as it starts to crawl up his arm. He loves it. He loves it so much. He-  _ oh my god he loves it with all his heart. He would die for it. This little sugar glider now belongs to Anthony Feng and he loves it and its name is Whiskey. _

 

He fails to hold back another squeal as the newly dubbed Whiskey curls up on his shoulder and stretches up against his neck, head pressing against the underside of his chin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> ( ˘ ³˘)♥


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [sm4sh announcer voice] A NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHES

“Ms. Amari.”

 

“Yes, Kiddo?”   
  
“Your… one of your spare arms is… malfunctioning? I thought they had to be, like, attached for it to… um.”

 

“...Uh, yeah, that… happens sometimes. I don’t know how to fix it.”

 

“I…”

 

“...”

 

“...”

 

“Yeah, anyways, I’ve decided not to worry about it.”

 

“It’s… on fire.”

 

“That happens sometimes.”

 

“Shouldn’t we… put out… the fire?”

 

“That would involve worrying about it, Kiddo.”

  
  


\---

  
  


_ “Miss! Miss!” A young Cherry calls out to her boss, hand waving high above her head. _ __   
_   
_ __ “Yes, doll?” Amari calls back, not looking up from her workbench. Building a functioning snake body is… hard. Is it all neck? Or is it all body? Or all tail? She’s so confused as to where one ends and another starts.

 

_ “I think I found out how to stop your prosthetic arm prototype from getting all, um, glitchy. Oh, oh, and the leg. It’s kinda the same problem in both? But not really? Uh. Come look, come look!” She’s jumping up and down in her excitement, shaking her arms up and down. Amari loves how excited she can get. “All you had to do was remove one of the screws!” It’s placement left it rubbing against another plate when in use, and because of that sparks happen, and-and it melts the wires, that’s why Lilith keeps getting migraines because the prosthetic is sending faulty information to her brain! And, and-” _

 

_ What a smart girl. Amari knows that with a brain like hers, Cherry will be going places. _

  
  


\---

  
  


_ Lilith is a young friend of Amari. She’s only 17, has short brown hair, and can never be found without a soft and fluffy cardigan around her shoulders. She has trouble expressing her emotions, but she tries her best. _

 

_ She was in a car accident recently and had lost her leg. Amari had offered to make her a leg, to which she agreed. She would go on to mention an influx of migraines, and Cherry would go on to notice a flaw in Amari’s design. _

 

_ But that’s how things were supposed to be. Not how things are. _

 

_ Just like how young Anthony was supposed to grow up with both loving, supportive parents, with enough money to afford testosterone treatments. He would get his name legally changed and under his new name, he would eventually become a famous author. _

 

_ Just like how young Mavis worked in a flower shop at the edge of town with their family, spending their free time reading books on botany and space and matter. On the stars. _

 

_ Just like how young Dahlia was a game nerd, and would constantly stay up late with her online friends to play a multitude of horror games. They would make it into a game of trying not to scream, as to not wake up everyone in the house. _

 

_ The only reason I know this is because I was supposed to protect this. And I failed. I will never forgive myself for condemning so many people to the mercy of that man. _

 

_ You’re probably wondering about the others I mentioned now, yes? But those are stories for another time, however, this is a tale about Anthony Feng. _

 

_ Maybe later, though, we can touch up on what happened to the other children, both from earth and extraterrestrial immigrants. _

 

_ Not right now, though. Right now, I’ve already interrupted your story enough. Sorry. I’ll get out of your hair now. _

 

_ At least, until the time is right. _

 

_ This is the story of my greatest failure, the results of my mistakes, and those who suffered because of me. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :>
> 
> hey yo so i was listening to this https://open.spotify.com/album/4EHO6nIhB0OCyOY2vQ8yqX (awaken) while writing this so,,


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to SirTopHatTheThird on Discord for being my beta!

A young boy ascends a rusted stairwell half-carved and half-stabbed into the side of the canyon. He has on a dark brown jacket over an old grey sweatshirt and dirty ripped jeans over black leggings. He has on three pairs of thick socks under black combat boots, because no matter how hot the desert gets in the day, it gets even colder at night. He learned that the hard way. His shoulder length black hair is pulled back into a bun but bangs still hang over his eyes.

 

This is Anthony Feng, now seventeen years old and he is just  _ itching _ for blood.

 

First his father. Then his mother.  _ Then Ms. Amari _ . How many people are they going to take from him? He’s done nothing wrong. He keeps his nose down, hood up, and keeps walking. He ignores the twitching of his fingers, a nervous tick making him want to grip his butterfly knife, just in case.

 

The ratty stairways leading up and out of the canyon- and therefore out of the slums- is rusted, slippery, and baren. Multiple times he almost slips and falls to what could only be his death. No human could survive a fall that large. As he gets closer and closer to the surface, the air smells and  _ feels _ so clean, it’s incredible. Anthony didn’t even know air could be this clear, this smog-free, after living down in the slums for so long.

 

Anthony peers down the edge of the cliff, into the murky slums below. He’s so glad to be out of that place. As much as he loves Ms. Amari- the woman had practically adopted him, how could he not love her?- he never liked it in the slums. His body couldn’t handle quite a lot of foods, but they had to eat what they could get, meaning he had to power through many stomach aches and internal pains. That’s okay though. He never complained, he knew how hard it was for Ms. Amari to get enough food for two in a place like that.

 

He only wishes that the circumstances he was leaving under were more… positive. That she hadn’t gotten hurt.

 

He tries not to think about it, and he fails.

  
  


\----

  
  


_ Ms. Amari had been meeting her usual dealer for new parts. She hadn’t needed to tell Anthony when he would get back. After living with her for years, he already knew her schedule somewhat. He knew she should have been back an hour ago. She couldn’t have gotten lost, she knows the slums like the back of her hands. What had- _

 

_ His train of thought is cut off abruptly as the reinforced doors of the workshop are blasted open and three Enforcers rush in. Anthony, like any sensible human would, immediately lunged forwards and plunged his butterfly knife into the closest Enforcers neck. Before the other two had the chance to react, Anthony had pulled a kunai from his boot and threw it with almost expert-like ease, the weapon embedding in the other Enforcers neck with a sickening squelch. _

 

_ He didn’t have enough time after that. The third Enforcer had lifted his gun and fired a shot- Anthony was just barely quick enough to avoid fatal damage, the bullet grazing his throat as he jumped away. _

 

_ Ducking down and rushing the last one standing, Anthony threw a jab at the man's nether regions. As the man crumpled over in pain, Anthony lifted his leg and brought it down in a brutal ax-kick, the Enforcers face smacking into the floor of the workshop with a spray of blood. Anthony proceeded to stomp, and stomp and stomp on the man's head until he stopped moving. _

 

_ The teen sneered down at the Enforcers bloody body before walking over it to collect his kunai, still in the other man's throat. He ripped it out with another gut-churning sound. Anthony didn’t bat an eye. _

 

_ Now to survey the scene of the crime. Three Enforcers, only with pistols. And bags? Each had three empty bags with them, and one had a device that Anthony had been able to identify as a scanner. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure. Their armor isn't as durable, as both of his knives had been able to pierce through and gouge their necks with ease. They weren’t ready for combat, or at least, not someone as skilled as Anthony. They didn’t expect anyone to be here. _

 

_ They came here with empty bags, with scanners, so they didn’t just stumble upon it, they came here to take something. Take what? And if they knew about this place, about who owned it- _

 

_ Oh. _

 

_ Oh, no. _

  
  


\----

  
  


Whiskey chitters from his shoulder, inadvertently- or maybe on purpose?- bringing him back to the present. He hasn’t even noticed that he had already made it to the top, the last step right in front of them. It’s incredible that he didn’t fall.

 

Whiskey’s mechanical nose twitches as if taking in new scents, the short wires used for sensory that make up their whiskers tickling Anthony’s cheek. Who knows, maybe they actually can smell stuff. Anthony never asked his little friend, never asked Ms. Amari. Not that he can, now, but…

 

He sighs and turns away from the cliff face, setting his hoverboard a foot above the ground.

 

Anthony loves his hoverboard. Ms. Amari had found the pieces-  _ I swear kiddo, I didn’t mug anyone- _ and had made it for him when he was 12. He’s been using it ever since, and while it has some scratches and dents, he has the skills to use it and it’s already saved his life on multiple occasions. He has a keep a close eye on it, lest it gets stolen from him. He’d probably attack whoever even looked at it, though. Stab stab, you know?

 

Whiskey trills and crawls down into the pouch attached to a thin rope around his neck. Anthony knows Whiskey doesn’t need sleep, but their systems do need to cool down at times. He slips a tiny shard of coal into the pouch and smiles as he hears Whisky chirp once more.

 

He should take inventory before he actually leaves. The desert can be unforgiving, and he has to make sure he has everything.

 

Five water bottles, four for him and one for Whiskey, check. Basic first aid kit, check. Bandana, check. Goggles, check. Rations, check. A little less than what he’d like, but beggars can’t be choosers. Spare binder, check. Knife, check. Another knife, also check. Butterfly knife, check. He has a lot of knives. You can never have too many on your person. Never.

 

With a final pat-down for anything missing, he gently taps Whiskey’s pouch twice to let them know they’re about to take off and steps onto the hoverboard.

 

He doesn’t have a destination just yet. As much as he wants to storm the capitol and kill the Dictator in his own god damned bedroom, he can’t. He wouldn’t make it one step into the tech-enhanced city, his sooty appearance making him stick out like a sore thumb.

 

He needs to prepare. He needs allies and resources. Before Ms. Amari was taken-  _ taken, not killed, she hadn’t been killed, not yet, there’s no way- _ she had mentioned another mechanic only two years older than him within the city. A girl named Cherry. He needs to find her, to get her to help, whether of her own will or by force.

 

He will be ready. He  _ needs _ to be ready. He  _ will _ get revenge for all of his friends, his family who have been hurt and broken and killed by that  _ man. _

 

_ He’s gonna tear his throat out and hang him with his own entrails.  _

 

The wind is whipping his hair around, and from beneath his goggles, he glares up at the City In The Sky.

 

_ His death will not be a fast one, nor will it be painless. Anthony is going to drag it out as long as possible. _

 

_ He will beg for mercy, and find none from me. _

 

Anthony Feng, now seventeen years old, drifts into the desert below a city but above slums, and the only thing driving him to continue is spite and pain and the inextinguishable craving for revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Onto the next adventure!

**Author's Note:**

> The lil kiddo she grabbed is Anthony <3
> 
> Might be multi-chaptered?? idk what do you guys think
> 
> But!!! As always!!! Thanks for reading!!!


End file.
